Secret Girl
by IndieFoxProductions
Summary: A troubled woman finds someone who makes her speak up in more ways than one. AU OOC
1. Secret Girl

I could tell you there's no fireworks,

I could say they rang no bells,

But there are just some things I cannot tell.

And the air it seems much cleaner,

In these streets where my feet dwell.

She crept into my pocket and whispered softly, 'do not tell'.

Charlie Winston - Secret Girl

* * *

The sound of clicking heels intermingled with the sounds from the early morning crowd. People pushed or shoved their way between each other just to find enough space to raise their half empty cups of coffee to their lips, or maybe even to light the first cigarette of the day.

Who cares?

Windows showed off their newest items, be it the current hottest sweater, or a used bookstore that was displaying a first edition copy of Alice in Wonderland. People were sitting outside that famous bistro, the little round tables and chairs filled with teenagers who thought they were too cool for the 'mainstream'. They sat there quietly, each of them tapping away at the touchscreen on their phones.

Across the street a law firm building had its lawyers rushing in and out, almost all of them with their own phones pressed tightly against their ears, or maybe even they two would stop to type out a message to some other person. Sometimes they would even be reading a book or a magazine, usually the current best sellers the media talked about all the time.

Over head, the sky was overcast. But this was the norm, London always seemed like it was covered over in clouds. It was no wonder that the people always seemed to be so depressed. Today, however, the forecaster said there was little chance of rain.

Cars rushed by as the people in them were rushing to work. No doubt late because of some forgotten paper or some other item. Or maybe they had simply wished to say hello to their children before leaving?

Who knows... Maybe they didn't even have children in the first place, or maybe their children were with their other family.

Standing on the corner of these two streets was a single blonde women. She took in all of these observations quietly, marveling at how two groups of people could be so different and yet so similar.

Around her neck was an Olympus OM-D E-M5 camera, a gift from a friend. The camera had a retro style look to it, but was completely modern. It hung from a black leather strap, coming to rest against her sweater clad stomach.

Her hands fiddled with the devise instead of the phone tucked safely away in her loose fit jeans. Below her, a random tune was being tapped out by her anxious trainer covered feet.

Blue eyes were flicking between the crowds of people and the red walking sign for pedestrians. The little walking person popped up right as she was going to push the button to call for it, something she was glad for.

People started walking all around her, each on their way with some other destination in mind. The woman enjoyed thinking about different places where the people might be off to, each person always had so much potential to do something great.

Her own destination, was currently on her own mind. A smile came so easily to her, the thoughts of being with her friends never ceased to fill her with joy.

Turning the corner, she stopped suddenly to contemplate a storefront add before her. The record store was selling off their supply of vinyls, either for half off or buy three and get the fourth free.

The sudden force of someone crashing into her sent her spiraling onto the hard ground. A warm wetness spread across her chest, giving off the unmistakeable scent of coffee.

Her hands immediately flew to her camera, fingering the devise to be sure that it wasnt damaged. It turned on with the click of a button, not in the least bit damaged. God, she loved all weather protection.

A loud string of curses reminded her of the other person who had fallen, their voice furious.

Blowing the bangs that obscured her vision, the woman almost gasped in surprise. Before her was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.

She had curly, mahogany colored hair that fell down past her shoulders, her bangs grew parted off to the side. The woman was currently looking at the coffee stain on her salmon colored blouse, the string of curses becoming much more colorful by the passing seconds.

The blonde woman took in the short legs folded beneath the other woman, a plum colored skirt reaching the tops of her knees. In her hand was a crumpled up cup, the origin of the whole coffee fiasco.

"Jesus! Cant you watch where your going?" The women yelled as she whipped her head up to glare at the blonde.

Her pixie like face had a light dusting of freckles over her nose and cheeks. Blazing, chocolate brown eyes were glaring, plump, pink lips set into a firm line.

"Well? What do you have to say for your self?"

"Fleur! Hermione!" A woman's voice called out from somewhere behind the two women on the ground.

The blonde woman, Fleur, turned her head to look behind her. The woman before her, Hermione, huffed in what she guessed was irritation.

"There you two are! We were beginning to worry about you!"

Luna Lovegood came running up to the two women, a big, burly man following right behind her. They looked concerned, then relieved at having found their friends.

Fleur's face brightened at the sight of this man, Hermione's brightened at the sight of Luna.

Getting to her feet, Fleur outstretched a hand towards Hermione, her own way of apologizing. The brunette looked at the hand extended towards her for a moment before reluctantly pulling herself up.

Fleur was pleased to find that even with heels on, Hermione was still a few inches shorter than her.

"Fleur! Vhat happened to your shirt?" The man said once he got close enough.

"Oh, Hermione! You spilled something on yours as well!" Luna gasped, taking the ends of the brunettes shirt in her hands.

Fleur shrugged as she slid her hands into her pockets, Hermione huffed again as if there was some great nuisance bothering her without letting up.

"_I_ didnt do anything! This blonde twit here just stopped suddenly and I crashed into her, spilling my coffee all over!" Hermione gestured to the nonchalant blonde. "And to top it off she didn't even apologize!"

Fleur looked slightly ashamed about this, her gaze down at her shoes. The man stepped toward her and laid a hand against her back in an attempt to comfort his blonde friend.

"I vill apologize for Fleur." The man said, turning to look at Hermione before leading the blonde back to the where the main group were gathered.

"Really, Luna. I don't know what goes through your head when it comes to choosing your friends." Hermione said once the two retreating figures were out of ear shot.

"Don't take it too seriously, Hermione." Luna turned to look at her friend. "Fleur has always been on the quiet side ever since I met her."

"And her boyfriend, whats the deal with him?"

"Viktor? Oh, their not dating." Luna laughed. "She's his adoptive sister, they go everywhere together that people usually just assume that their together."

"That still doesn't explain why she didn't say anything, quiet or not." Hermione narrowed her eyes, turning to look at the blonde.

"Hermione, Fleur is mute. She cant say anything even if she wanted to." Luna's eyes turned sad. "Now lets go join the others and get you changed out of that top, shall we?"

* * *

The get together was in full swing. Luna had organized the thing a week in advance, inviting only the closest of her friends. Which, Luna being Luna, meant all of her friends.

Harry had secured the table at the park and Luna brought various types of food items, these being mainly vegetarian.

Cedric had brought the grill and the charcoal, but forgot the lighter.

Fleur brought the music, which meant that she brought her ipod and docking system.

Viktor brought the meat, but locked his car keys inside his car. Fleur ended up having to slip through the partcialy opened sunroof to retrieve them.

Neville brought the crisps, while Ginny brought the dip and plates.

Ron brought the napkins and plastic spoons and knives, the twins even came with logs to build a bonfire, they even brought a few extra lighters.

And last but not least, Hermione brought the legal knowledge to keep them all from being arrested. She also brought the beer.

* * *

Everything was going smoothly and the sun eventually sank below the horizon, the night chill bringing with it the promise of a nice bonfire.

The men decided that they were best suited to the job, shooed the girls away and started arguing about the best way to start the fire. It had been much the same way earlier when they argued over who was the best griller.

Fleur had snapped a lot of pictures of Cedric glaring down the steaks while wearing Harry's 'Kiss the cook' apron.

At the moment, the tree girls were sitting on the tailgate of Cedric's pick up, conveniently backed up before their little campground.

Fleur was sitting in the middle, Luna off to the left and Hermione to her right.

Hermione sat quietly on the tailgate, listening to the quiet squabble the boys always seemed to make every few seconds. They were currently arranging the logs into a teepee like formation, balls of newspapers smoking inside, something Ginny had been trying to convince them to use in the first place.

The brunette would occasionally hear the seemingly one-sided conversation Luna was having with the girl between them.

She was just about to throw away her empty beer can when a yellow post it note was placed on her knee. Puzzled, she unstuck the little note and held it up closer to read, she had left her reading glasses in her purse.

_'Im really sorry about earlier this morning.'_

Hermione looked over to see Fleur looking directly at her, an apologetic look on her face. The long fingers of her hands were tapping out a random pattern against the glass of her empty beer bottle.

"Did you put this there?" Hermione held up the sticky note.

Fleur nodded, reaching beside her to hold up a pad of multicolored sticky notes and a pen.

"Well then, apology accepted. But I have to apologize as well, it wasn't right of me to snap at you for ruining my blouse."

Fleur glanced down at the tie dye shirt the brunette had borrowed from Luna before hastily scribbling down on another note.

_'I'll cover your dry cleaning cost.'_

Hermione smiled a little at this, sticking this new post it onto the first.

"Thats really not necessary, its not like it was a work blouse anyway."

_'Then at least allow me to buy you another coffee.'_

"We'll see." Hermione winked at the blonde before going for another beer.

Fleur sighed a quiet sigh, her eyes never leaving the retreating figure of the brunette.

"You like her." Luna singsonged, making the blonde blush furiously.

"Shall I go and tell her?"

Fleur shook her head violently, her golden locks of hair going every which way.

Luna grinned, then jumped off the tail gate to run after the brunette, leaving Fleur to gape openly at the other blonde woman.

"Hermione! Can you come here for a second? I need too, oof!"

Hermione turned back to see Fleur laying atop a struggling Luna, her hands covering the other blondes mouth.

She shook her head as the boys behind them were giving off cries of victory as the bonfire actually caught fire, Ginny's voice joining them.

Sometimes, just sometimes, she really did wonder where the hell Luna got her friends from.


	2. Baby Bacon

For I was colliding,

We're riding magic carpets out on high.

Mirror, mirror where the gods all laugh and cry.

Well I made a space to see her and into my path she fell.

But where she came from, that, I cannot tell.

I was waiting, complicating, but something's changed my world.

Charlie Winston - Secret Girl

* * *

The sun rose a week later in the exact pattern it always followed in. Its red and orange glow banished away the dark of the night, burning away the chill and frost that had robbed so many of warmth.

Light reached across the earth, finding the smallest of cracks. It showed the people that there was a light at the end of the tunnel.

Hermione Granger was already awake when the sunlight poured into her flat.

Every morning, exactly at five o'clock, she woke up and changed into her running outfit. This consisted of Underarmor running shorts, shirt, and sports bra. Tied to her feet were a well worn pair of Nike running shoes.

The brunette ran two and a half miles on the treadmill she had installed in the spare room of her flat. Every step sent her ponytail captured hair swinging back and forth behind her.

In her ears, heavy rock music filled the void of other noises from the outside world. At five thirty, she run was complete was she had moved on to shower off the sweat on her body.

By six o'clock, Hermione had already showered and dressed for work. The clicks from her heels echoed around her silent flat, only disturbing her cat, Crookshanks, from one of his many daily naps on her grey leather couch.

Adjusting her purse on her shoulder, Hermione looked around her organized front room for anything she might have forgotten.

The morning sunlight lit up her sparcily decorated living quarters. Gray and white couches matched perfectly with one another, as did the gray glass coffee table and white floor lamps.

The many windows built into the walls showed the roofs of all the buildings around her, their own occupants very well still asleep.

In her hand, her phone buzzed to remind her that she had a meeting at seven o'clock with her clients. Hermione did a once over of her work uniform, the black skirt was without a creese or wrinkle as was her white blouse. Her black blazer rested over the fold of her arm.

Sighing, she wished Crookshanks farewell before closing the solid door behind her. By six thirty, Hermione was in the elevator heading towards her fourth story office. The little bell dinged as it reached her floor, her reflection broken by the doors opening. Behind the doors, her assistant, Emma, was waiting with the days files and clients.

Hermione nodded as the young woman began the days assessments, a perfectly manicured nail trailing down the list.

The brunette listened to the twin clicks of their heels against the polished wood floors, her organized mind on a thousand and one things.

Outside her office, Emma handed her the files before clicking back the way they had came, no doubt off to text her boyfriend on how much she missed him.

Pushing the heavy oak door open, Hermione inspected her office.

Red wood floors gleamed under the soft light from the mounted lamps, the wooden walls reflecting the light back onto themselves. Two single leather chairs sat before her desk, slightly angled to face each other.

The black desk had been thoroughly cleaned, not a speck of dust showed on the see though glass. Next to the edge, her black phone sat exactly at a forty five degree angle; perfectly opposite her silver laptop.

Settling in her spinning desk chair, the brunette reached across her desk and fixed her name plate. The object not centered directly in the middle of her work space.

Off to her right, the salt water fish tank bubbled quietly as the colorful fish swam around in their mini habitat.

At exactly seven o'clock, a knock announced her first client.

"Good morning, Mister and Misses Malfoy." She stood to greet the married couple. "Have you come up with anything else that you would like to talk about before we finalize this divorce?"

* * *

Meanwhile on the other side of the city, a certain blonde woman was having fun sticking pieces of cereal to her sleeping companions face.

Fleur's body shook in silent laughter as she flicked piece after piece of cereal onto Viktor's snoring face. The blonde was sitting on the back of their red couch, looking down at the large man as he slept on his futon.

The red and black comforter had been kicked off and was tangled around his legs, the matching pillows everywhere but under his head.

His open mouth was her target, but all of her attempts had missed and either landed on his cheeks or dampened his grey t-shirt.

Swirling the leftover milk in her bowl, Fleur took careful aim and shot her last piece of fruitloops directly into his mouth.

Viktor sprang up, gasping and sputtering as he tryed to dislodge his windpipe. Rubbing his mouth, he looked around before glaring up at the smiling blonde.

"Vone of these days, Fleur." He rose to tower over his sister. "You vill fall off that couch and I vill laugh."

The blonde shrugged, her usual answer to her brothers threats. She watched from her perch as the big man rummaged around in one of the many cardboard boxes they had yet to unpack.

Moving was always a tedious affair.

Viktor lumbered off to the bathroom, his bare feet making the old floor boards of their loft creek beneath him as he walked. When he returned, freshly showered and work clothes in place, he took in the steady clicking of someone typing.

Turning the corner, he saw Fleur on her back with her laptop sitting on her stomach. The blonde's fingers were tapping out a steady rhythm as they flew across the keyboard. Soft jazz music was coming from the speakers, the voice of some male singer filling the air.

"Fleur, Im off too work. Don't burn the house down ville Im away."

His answer came from a raised thumb, barely noticeable from the over stuffed sofa. Chuckling to himself, Viktor grabbed his car keys and hard hat before leaving.

Fleur meanwhile, was looking up the answers to a search add she had been looking up. Gleefully, drew her phone from her pajama pocket and sent out a text message to the number she found.

* * *

At five minutes to noon, Hermione was ready to bash her head in. As a lawyer, she normally dealt with people everyday who had slightly too high expectations.

He wanted this or she wanted that. And heaven thank her for keeping her cool when this one wife went absolutely mad when her husband wanted to keep her cats.

The brunette loved her job. Hell, there wasn't anything else that she would rather be doing. But as a lawyer, she wasn't just the one that helped unhappy married couples separate.

Not even a year ago she had helped underpaid immigrants win equal rights and secure fair wages.

But now, after a particular meeting with one Mister and Misses Zeller, she was ready to take a slightly early lunch. Her stomach rumbled unhappily at her.

From inside her purse, Hermione's cellphone buzzed with the warning of a new text message. Sliding the lock, she was slightly unnerved by the unknown number.

_'Are you free for coffee? I still owe you one.'_

_'Who is this?'_

Not even ten seconds had passed before there was a response.

_'Fleur. This is Hermione, right?'_

Immediately flashes of the blonde woman she had meet a week before played before her mind. She remembered that the blonde did, in fact, owe her a coffee for the one that spilled before._  
_

_'Yes. Sorry, I didn't know you had my number.'_

_'Oh! Yeah, Luna gave it to me the other day.'_

Hermione should have known. Luna was always giving her information out at the slightest hint of interest.

Another message chimed in

'_It's alright, right?'_

_'Its fine. And coffee sounds amazing.'_

_'Great! I'll be there in about ten minutes!'_

Hermione shook her head. One of these days, she was going to kill Luna for giving out her information at the drop of a hat without her permission.

* * *

The brunette was sitting outside her office building when Fleur rode up on a bicycle. She wasn't sitting, instead the blonde was standing fully upright, her balance perfect as she held two coffee cups in her hands. Attached to her back was a blue and silver backpack.

Hermione had to admit, she was slightly impressed by the smooth way the blonde had pulled to a stop before her. Her long legs pulled back evenly, slowing her momentum to where she didn't even sway in order to balance the drinks in her hands.

The acrobatic blonde handed Hermione the coffees before jumping off the bike, her feet landing quietly and solidly on the cement. From a pocket in her backpack, the woman drew a lock and secured the bike to a nearby stand.

She returned with a grin and plopped down in the metal seat opposite her friend. Hermione handed Fleur the coffee before clapping a little, something that made the blonde blush.

"That was really cool, Fleur." Hermione sipped at her coffee.

The brunette watched as Fleur rummaged around in her jeans pocket for a second before pulling out a pad of sticky notes and a black pen. She scribbled out a note on with her left hand as she pulled another something from her backpack.

Hermione was completely distracted by the animal the blonde had produced. In her hands was a tiny, pink piglet.

It sat comfortably in the blonde's hand, its eyes looking around at the people walking by. Around its neck, a blue collar with a bell attached chimed at its movements. She was dimly aware of Fleur placing a sticky note on her knee.

Without looking down, Hermione unstuck the lime green note and held it for a few seconds before reading the message.

_'This is Bacon. I rescued him this morning from a guy who wanted to put him down because he was too small.'_

Hermione laughed at the ironic name, but a feeling of sympathy settled on her when she looked at the little pink baby.

"And let me guess, you named him Bacon?" She eyed the blonde with a smirk playing on her lips.

Fleur's eyes widened, and her blonde hair flew as she shook her head. She was petting the piglet with both hands now, something the baby seemed to like as it rolled over onto its back to receive a belly scratch.

Hermione laughed fully, something she hadn't done in a long time. Whipping her eyes, she looked at the new sticky note on her knee.

_'Viktor did. He thought it would be funny.'_

The brunette chuckled, taking in the pout the blonde was doing. She looked absolutly adorable to the brunette, something she hadn't thought about anyone in a while.

"I have to admit, he was right." Hermione winked at the blonde.

Fleur mouthed something to herself as she scribbled down another note for Hermione. In her hand, Baby Bacon started making little content noises as she ran her fingers through his peach fuzz.

She watched as Hermione's brown eyes flicked over the note, her hand absently drawing circles around the lip of her coffee cup. Fleur sipped at her own, thinking that the next time she would get the mocha instead of the hazelnut.

"A house warming party?" Hermione asked, her eyes back up to look at Fleur. "How long ago did the two of you move here?"

Fleur thought for a moment before holding up a single finger.

"One?"

The blonde nodded.

"Not a week, a month?"

Fleur grinned a goofy that showed off her white teeth, her head nodding to answer the brunette's question.

Hermione was about to respond when her watch ticked off. She looked down and found that her lunch break was over, time to get back to work. The brunette watched from the corner of her eye as Fleur finished her coffee and tossed the empty cup into a nearby trash bin. She had hardly touched her own.

"Alright, Fleur." She stood to pull her purse over her shoulder. "Just send me he date and time and I'll be sure to go over."

Hermione watched as the blonde woman's face lit up with a grin, like she hadn't thought that the brunette would agree. Smirking, Hermione leaned down and kissed the blonde on the cheek before retreating back into her work building.

Fleur sat, frozen, her hand resting delicately against her cheek. Warmth spread through her face, making her feel incredibly happy. In her pocket, her phone buzzed.

It was a message from Hermione.

_'Thanks for the coffee, by the way. ;)' _


	3. House Warming

I'm in love with a secret girl.

I'm in love with a secret girl.

I'm in love with a secret girl.

The time will tell,

The time's no friend of mine.

He's always taking measurements for the moments once alive.

Charlie Winston - Secret Girl

* * *

Fleur wasn't the one to plan the house warming party, and neither was Viktor as the two of them usually prefured to live out of their boxes until they were forced to officially move in and find a place for everything. It only took a single visit from Luna to have them organize everything and make their loft presentable.

Which is why Fleur and Viktor were now dressed in their finest clothes, dutifully awaiting their first guests to arrive. Even Bacon had been bathed and was now sporting a tiny shirt.

While Viktor was in the kitchen area making sure the food and drinks were in place, Fleur was clicking through the living room in her high heels adjusting the pillows and things on the couches.

She looked with a critical eye at the paintings on the wall, unsure if they were straight enough. Overhead the lights illuminated the whole area, a few Chinese lanterns hung from various spots.

Fleur was just picking up a stack of magazines when the doorbell rang. Fixing the stack, she hurried over to where Bacon was scratching at the front door. She swept the little mammal into Viktor's waiting hands before smoothing out her dress and opening the door.

Waiting patiently on the other side was Harry and Luna, a bottle of wine in hand.

* * *

A few hours later almost everyone had arrived, almost everyone meaning that Hermione had yet to show. But everyone else from the last get together at the park came, with a few new additions accompanying them.

Cedric came with his long-term girlfriend Cho Chang, a pretty Chinese girl who was studying journalism at a near by university. Fred came with Katie Bell while his twin came with Angelina Johnson, the two couples having been together since secondary school. Both girls were currently studying various forms of film and direction.

Ron came second to last with his newest girlfriend Lavender Brown, the two of them not really knowing what they were going to do later in life. Ginny and her current boyfriend Lee Thomas were the last to arrive.

Everyone was congregated in the living room as the party was nearing its end. Left over food was scattered around every available space on tables, mostly from people who left it there and forgot before going back for more. Cups and cans of various drinks sat in clusters on tables and counters, a few even found themselves in the sink.

Stacks of lime green sticky notes, curtisy of Fleur, were also scattered around the loft. These were usually nonexistent when it was just the blonde and Viktor, she usually got her point across with various facial expressions and body language.

The blonde was currently seated between Luna and Harry, the three of them watching as Viktor, George, Fred and Ron all reenacted a fight scene from a movie they had watched.

Ron was currently being held upside down by his ankles by Viktor while the twins were trying all sorts of means to get the large man to drop him. Everyone else was laughing at the sidelines as Bacon was running between the legs of the Fred and George, trying to keep them from getting to close to Viktor.

Fleur was tapping out a random tune on her leg when the doorbell rang again. Everyone paused in their actions, looking at one another as Fleur wormed her way out of her human sandwich. Her bare feet made not a sound on the mismatched hardwood floor, the heels she had been wearing had been discarded sometime during the middle of the party.

She peered into the peephole on the door and and saw the person she had been waiting for the entire night.

* * *

Hermione knew she was late. Woefully behind schedule as she rushed from her office down into the parking garage where her car was parked. Her heels clicked furiously beneath her as she jogged to where the car sat, black paint shining in the lights.

She slid into the drivers side seconds after she clicked the unlock button. Beneath her feet, the engine of the 2014 Impala purred like a jungle cat as she pulled out of the parking structure.

Out on the streets, she drove around aimlessly after picking up something to take to the party. Her phone alight with the text message Fleur had sent with her address, the GPS occasionally voicing directions.

She turned a corner onto the right street, and right into a night time traffic lock off. Hermione didn't whine, she sat calmly and patiently as the cars slowly inched forward. In half on hour, maybe slightly more, she was pulling into the parking structure beneath the housing structure.

Inside, the building looked like any other loft the brunette had seen.

The walls were lined with red brick, the floor with dark hardwood. Off to one side a receptionist was sitting behind a desk, their attention on the small TV that hung in a corner. In the middle of the room was a beige square of carpet, a set of mismatched single person couches were placed on this square. A glass coffee table in the middle.

After taking a look around the building, Hermione decided that the only way up was to take the stairs. Besides the stairs was an elevator, but the elevator had neon yellow tape across the doors. Later on she would find out that a previous renter had put some sort of experiment inside it that exploded.

But hey, what was a few flights of stairs in five inch heels?

The walls bordering the stairs were much the same as they were in the front lobby. Brick, brick, brick. Metal stairs pounded beneath her feet, the noise echoing around her. It bounced off the walls, rattled her bones.

She had never been more nervous in her life.

But why? It wasnt like she was on a date. Not like she was on her way to propose to a girl she had met twice. A girl who couldnt even speak, but had charmed her somehow without a word.

Why the hell was she thinking about this in the first place?

Hermione was still in her suit from work, but hey, it was a party. She wasn't going to show up in jeans and a t-shirt. The brunette wasn't even sure if she owned any in the first place.

She ruled away the nervousness as stress from being late.

The brunette stood before the red painted door. Over head the nameplate read 74B, the exact number that Fleur had sent in her message.

Hermione stood there, listening to the laughter that came from behind. She fiddled with the box in her hands, tempted to just turn around and head home.

But that was the old Hermione, the Hermione that would run scared at the very thought of-NO! She wouldn't think about that.

She reached out and rang the door bell.

Hermione waited for a few seconds, her back straight and her composure calm. She listened as all the laughter and talking suddenly stopped just as the door opened, the smell of various types of food and beer drifted out into the hallway.

And there was Fleur.

The blonde was barefoot, but still somehow managed to be taller than Hermione. She wore a black cocktail dress, a red sash tied around her waist. Her straight, waist length hair had been curled and now rested around her shoulders. Hardly any makeup was applied to her face, leaving it looking natural.

Fleur looked confused at first, then a grin stretched out on her face. The same goofy grin that she had done when she had invited Hermione over just the other day.

"Hi, Fleur." Hermione smiled sheepishly. "Sorry for being late, you know how work is."

Fleur rolled her eyes as she moved aside to allow Hermione in, cries of welcome sounded when the people within caught a glimpse of the new comer.

Hermione stood for a second, looking at the odd position most of the boys had gotten themselves into.

"Hermione! You made it!" Ron said, his face as red as his hair. "Still the same workaholic, eh?"

The brunette glared at the man and was about to send a sharp retort when Viktor suddenly released his grip on his ankles. Ron yelped as he landed on his head, his hands immediately coming to protect his neck as he rolled over onto his back.

Laughter erupted from the mostly drunk crowd, and Hermione heard Viktor mumble something about his hands getting tired as he moved off to the side. But from the corner of her eye she could see Fleur discreetly giving her brother a high five.

"Oh! My Wonnykins, are you alright?" Lavender ran to his side, checking his head to make sure there were no breaks or anything.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. No hard feelings there, right Viktor?" He stood up, extended a hand towards the larger man.

"No." Viktor shook Ron's hand, but from the look on the red heads face a little too tightly.

From one of the walls a clock chimed, announcing the late hour.

Several people looked around for the devise, and finding it commented that they should get going. The men patted Viktor on the shoulder, welcoming him into the neighbor hood while the women hugged Fleur and promised to text her sometime soon.

After a while it was just Hermione, Viktor and Fleur in the loft. The brunette was shuffling, her feet starting to hurt from being in her shoes all day. She left her gift on one of the couches and was about to help clean up when a lime green sticky note found its way on her arm.

_'You just got here. Sit down and have a beer while Viktor and I clean this up.'_

Hermione looked to the side where Fleur was standing, a beer in her free hand.

"No, I'll help. Just because you guys threw the party doesn't mean that you should be stuck cleaning the whole thing."

She watched as Fleur quirked an eyebrow before scribbling down another note.

_'It wasn't our idea to have one in the first place. Besides, I can tell from the way your legs are shaking that your tired.'_

Shocked, Hermione looked down to her legs. While she could see feel them, she couldn't really see her legs shaking. The brunette was about to comment about this but Fleur had already walked away, taking with her the stack of empty plates Hermione was going to put away.

Hermione stood there for a few seconds, her lips quirked and her arms across her chest as she watched the two meticulously clean. Instead of sitting as instructed, she removed her heels and placed them by the door to look around the loft.

The walls were the same red brick as outside, but the hardwood was arranged into a type of pattern. Dark had been laid down next to light, and the pattern continued.

Paintings were hung from the walls, but she would get back to those later.

Red and black couches were scattered around every room, a color scheme that the whole loft was painted in. The kitchen area blended into the living room, the only difference being the added variation of silver and blue to offset the previous darker colors.

She was amused to find a red and black futon hidden behind one of the farther couches. A black one, nonetheless.

A short hallway lead to a linen closet and a washroom. There was a final door, one she assumed belonged to Fleur because she could not see the woman sleeping behind a couch.

Making her way back to the living room, she was honestly surprised to find that every trace of the party had been removed. The tables were cleared, and chairs were put back into their rightful places. Even the trash had been taken out.

On one of the red couches was Fleur, her shoulders shaking as she watched Viktor try to fend off Bacon from nibbling on the some of the wires from the gift she brought.

The brunette sat besides the blonde, chucking herself as she watched Viktor try to install the DVD player. It seemed that every time he managed to plug in one cord, the piglet would trip over it and unplug it.

"Your quite welcome, Viktor." Hermione said as she reached out and caught the piglet in her hand. The little thing squirmed for a second before calming down.

"Tova e chudesno! Blagodarya vi!" He said happily, a grin on his face as he looked over his shoulder to look at the brunette.

Hermione's brow furrowed as she tryed to make out what he said. A sticky note on her arm immediately caught her attention.

_'He said thank you. Sometimes when he gets excited he will slip back into his native tongue.'_

"Where are you from, Viktor?" Hermione said as she started to fold Fleur's latest note into a bird.

"Bulgaria." He got to his feet as the last of the cords were in their right spot. "Thanks again for the player, Hermy-own-ney. I vas getting tired of looking at the same paintings after the last one broke."

Turning her head, Hermione was just in time to see Fleur launch her pen at Viktor.

"Vat! You could have just done another vew to replace the old ones!"

Hermione looked again at the paintings. There were only three but they each had something different about them. The first two were of a house, but during a different time of the day.

The house was older, almost like an old style plantation house. It was painted white and had a small picket fence around the front. A large tree grew off to the side, a tire swing tied to an unseen branch. Green grass grew with the barest hint of flowers growing besides the porch.

In the first painting, there was day light. Clouds could be seen in the background, a light colored sky in the fore. One of the windows was opened, a white curtain billowing in the wind.

During the night time picture, the window was closed and a yellow light was on. It cast a shadow into the yard, a rectangle with bars going through it. The sky was a mixture of reds and yellows, a faint purple could even be seen in the far distance.

The third painting was of a cemetery.

Dead grass and weeds grew around a couple of head stones, their names purposely blurred out. The stone of the markers was wet in certain areas, like it had just started raining. Overhead, the sky was a dark gray. Almost black.

In the bottom right corner of every corner were the initials FD along with the date.

"FD, hm? What does the D stand for?" Hermione looked at Fleur with a curious gaze.

The blonde didnt scribble her answer, her attention was down on her hands. The room was silent for a moment, Hermione was sure that no one was even breathing.

"Delacour, her family name." Viktor broke the silence, his tone tense.

Hermione looked between them, knowing that she was missing something. Silence rang thought the room still, not even Bacon was making a noise.

"Enough with viz silence, huh!" Viktor clapped his large hands together, startling the two women on the couch. "Now, Hermy-own-ney. Since you are our guest why don't you pick the first movie?"

* * *

Laying her own bed later that night, Hermione was sure she had heard the name Delacour from somewhere before. She racked her mind as she fidgeted about under her comforter. A little niggle of information was there, just out of reach.

From a movie? No, she didn't really follow celebrities. An author? Maybe, but unlikely.

Frustrated, she kicked off the comforter and padded over to where her laptop was sitting on her desk. Her bare legs jumped nervously as she clicked the devise on, the light illuminating her face in the darkness.

A few clicks later and the information she sought appeared on screen.

* * *

Fleur knew she wasnt going to be able to sleep. She urned for sleep, wanted to know the feeling of absolute peace and darkness. Beneath her, hands smoothed over the creases and ruffles of her sheets. The blankets were too hot against her legs and arms, almost burning.

Her eyes snapped open as she thought about a memory. An old memory about the sea, a sea she hadn't seen in almost five years now. And with the sea, the beach that she had grown up on.

She threw off the too hot blankets, her mind made up as her bare feet made contact with the cool floor. Walking to the edge of her lift, she slid down the stairs that led to the bottom level of the studio.

* * *

Hermione didn't, couldn't, believe what she was reading. Her eyes widened the more they flicked over the screen, the more details she found.

_'Not even twenty years have passed since the devastating, and tragic triple murder of the once prestigious and well known Delacour family._

_The case was first opened when a neighbor of the French Delacours called local authorities one night after hearing multiple gun shots being fired from the family's mansion. Authorities later arrived to find the bodies of Monsieur Delacour, his wife of ten years, as well as their youngest daughter._

_After a complete search of the grounds, the family's oldest daughter was located not too far off from where her parents and sister were found. The girl, not even nine years old at the time, was later taken in by a close friend of the family._

_Today the case remains open as the murderer was never caught.'_


	4. Ink and Bottles

And she shows up, with her rosy cheeks and pushes harm aside.

And it's healing, to be feeling,

That something's changed my world.

I'm in love with a secret girl.

I'm in love with a secret girl.

I'm in love with a secret girl.

Charlie Winston - Secret Girl

* * *

It was cold out on the balcony. The air of this side of London was frosty, hinting at an upcoming snow storm. Or maybe it would just rain, but that was depressing.

Fleur sat with her legs dangling over the balcony. Bare feet swung back in forth as she rested on her folded arms, the cold metal of the safety gaurd turning her skin into ice. The short pajama shorts she had on left her thighs to rest on the cement, her tank top clad skin welcomed the night.

She didn't mind, she loved the cold.

The blonde listened to the sounds of the early morning, her eyes unfocused as she slipped in and out of daydreams. A half finished cigarette dangled from her lips, an occasional breath of smoke would stream from her lips, or maybe even from her nose, to mingle and dissipate into the wind.

Overhead the sky was dark, the light from countless stars were gone. Past the mountains and buildings, the sun would be soon rising to welcome a new day. Cars honked and blared their music as people milled around below her.

And still she dreamed.

She dreamed of far off places. Places she had visited, or even the ones that she wished had visited. Countries and distant lands she had found in books or movies, sometimes even the places she found in the stories she heard from children.

About daring sword fights and a prince in disguise. But why was it always a prince who had to go and save the girl? Why couldn't it be the other way around?

And why did there need to be a prince or princess in the first place?

Why was the world such a sexist place? It was teaching children that to be happy, they either needed to be the damsel in distress or the prince who rides up in a suit of armor on a white horse.

There were exceptions of course, the one princess who took matters into her own hands and saved her people. Hell, one even went out and followed her dreams armed with only a saucepan and a chameleon.

She once read in a book about a girl that overcame the negativity and unacceptance from a society of people because she was an outsider. All because she was not a pure blood. The girl had succeeded in helping a boy, one known by all, in defeating a tyrant who wanted to bring upon the second holocaust.

That girl didn't need a prince to save her.

Somewhere ahead, she wasn't really sure where, the sun was rising. Already the light was fighting back the darkness, life had won over death. The sky was filling with different shades of colors already mentioned before and so well known.

Fleur allowed the finished cigarette to fall from her lips just as her phone started to vibrate beside her. Her eyes focused as she watched the bud tumble end over end until it hit the cement several floors down. It wasnt until it landed did she reach over and close her hand over her phone.

Sliding the lock, she held the devise before her face for a few seconds before she actually read the message.

_'I don't know if you're awake or not, but I never thanked you for inviting me to your party whether it was planed by you or a little crazy moon.'_

Fleur smiled at that as she rested her back on the floor, her arms coming to cushion her head. Closing her eyes, she kicked her legs and thought about when she would do during the day.

It was Saturday after all.

* * *

Hermione didn't get a wink of sleep during the night; something she hadn't done since she was a child and still lived at home. Back when she was afraid of the dark and needed a nightlight even when her rational mind told her there was nothing to be afraid of.

Sitting at her kitchen table, she traced the lip of her tea cup as she thought about everything and nothing.

Strands of hair tickled her neck from where they had escaped the messy bun on her head, her foot had fallen sleep from where she had tucked it into the space beneath her other knee. She didn't bother to drink her tea, it had grown cold a long time ago.

The brunette had sent Fleur that message over an hour ago and had yet to receive a response. She sighed as she look out the window.

Blue was mixing into the reds and oranges of the morning sky, creating an interesting pallet as clouds formed. She watched as people from neighboring buildings awoke and pulled up their blinds.

Her eyes felt raw and burned at every blink she took. People was assume that she habitually stayed up late to work on cases and things but even she, a complete workaholic, followed a strict personal schedule that rarely changed.

Yawning, she stretched and got up to empty her cup. Hermione didnt even look at the clock as she went down the hall of her flat, a single destination on her mind.

Clicking the light on in her washroom, she turned the knobs to her tub and stripped down as the steaming water filled the basin. After a moment full of waiting, the brunette eased her way into the bath; moaning as the heat sinked into her tired body.

Filling the bath with soap, she leaned her head back against the edge; simply relaxing in the calm around her.

It was in this way that she ended up falling asleep.

* * *

Fleur was shielding her eyes from the glare of the early sun as she looked up at the building before her. It rose story after story into the air, but not high enough to reach into the cloud cover. This building mirrored everything else that surrounded it; a steel structure that was lined all the way around in one sided windows.

Her messanger bag was slung across her chest, the strap held tightly in her hand as she ran her fingers over the fabric. She took a deep breath before entering the building, heading straight for the elevator before she chickened out and went to get coffee.

Coffee actually sounded amazing at that moment...

She reopened the text she had saved, looking for the number for the floor she was to go to. Finding it, she waited as the machine closed around her and took her farther into the belly of the complex.

The doors opened just as she thought she was going to be sick. She never did well in closed spaces, even when it was just herself in them.

Fleur looked down the long stretch of doors before finding a sign the pointed out where the rooms were. Turning left, she walked down the carpeted hallway that was not unlike that of a hotel.

376... 377... 378... 379!

The blonde stood before the door for a second, her hand half raised to knock. But what would she say when she answered?

_'Hey, can you tell me weather you just so happened to look up my family last night after you went home?'_

Fleur wanted to facepalm herself for even thinking that. It sounded stupid in her head, and she was sure that it would look stupid in writing.

She knocked before someone came out and thought she was some crazy stalker person, or even a murderer waiting for their next victim. To her surprise, and shock, the door opened just as her fist made contact with the wood.

The blonde waited for a few seconds to see if Hermione or someone would appear, but when none did she walked right into the flat and shut the door behind her.

She stood still, listening for any sign of movement that could have told her that anyone was home. Blue eyes took in the furniture and lay out of the flat she was in as she left her messenger near the door.

The whole thing was done in neutral blacks and whites; the black leather couches, the white coffee table... Hell, even the pictures on the walls were black and white!

Only the large orange cat on one of the couches brought color to the other wise meticulous room.

Fleur longed for some sort of noise, the quiet of the flat was starting to bother her. The only thing she could hear was the sound of her trainers scuffing slightly on the pale wood beneath her.

Walking down a hallway, she peered into three empty rooms before coming to a partially closed one. Taking a chance, she pushed open the door... And froze completely in her tracks.

* * *

Fleur could feel her face start to burn and her eyes widen as she walked in on a very naked Hermione in the bath. She turned around quickly and covered her eyes, waiting for the brunette to yell and throw things at her.

The blonde hesitantly peeked over her shoulder when nothing happened.

It was at this point that she noticed that the brunette had fallen asleep while in the water, something that Fleur knew could give the other woman a really bad cold later on.

Peeking through the fingers of one hand, she reached out with the other to poke Hermione's arm.

The brunette stirred a little, but didnt really react.

Fleur reached out and grasped the brunettes arm this time, shaking her. The effect was immediate.

Hermione jerked in her sleep, eyes opening quickly and flicking around the room. Seeing the blonde, she pulled her legs up to her chest as she attempted to cover her self.

"Fleur! What the bloody Hell do you think you are doing here?!"

The blonde in question was shaking her head, her eyes shut as she hastily removed her jacket. She threw the garment in Hermione's direction, hoping the brunette would get the idea and cover herself.

Not that Fleur minded.

A bottle of something hit her on the head, forcing her to fall back against the cold tile on the floor. Other, different bottles soon followed as Hermione yelled at her to get out. Blindly, Fleur scrambled across the floor on hands and knees in an effort to escape the brunettes attacks.

Safe out in the hallway, Fleur breathed a sigh of relief. The blonde sat with her back against the closed door to the washroom, her head craned back to rest against the wood.

She listened to the sounds of Hermione getting out of the tub. The wet sounds of her foot steps and the curses the brunette was making as she kicked the bottles out of her way. A wet, cold feeling on her stomach had Fleur looking down.

There, on her black tank top, was a large glob of what looked to be either shampoo or conditioner. The blonde cursed her horrid luck silently, a huff leaving her chest. Getting to her feet, she went off in search of the kitchen.

* * *

Inside the washroom, Hermione was clutching the blonde's now soaked jacked to her chest. The water dripped from her pruned skin onto the worn leather, soft cotton rubbed against her stomach from the inside.

Hermione kicked various bottles from her way, wondering just why the hell she needed four bottles of body wash. Fury radiated through her body, making her shake in an attempt to control her emotions.

'_Just where the hell does she get off? Coming into my flat, into my washroom!'_

She slid on a pair of knickers from the pile of clean clothes on her counter.

_'I don't give a damn if her family is dead! Someone should have taught her to knock first!'_

Pants in place, she clipped on a bra before fitting a simple v-neck over her torso. Her bare feet padded silently over the hardwood as she made her way down the hall in search of her 'guest'.

"Stupid, gittsy blonde." She mumbled to herself.

Hermione turned the corner towards her kitchen. The sound of running water filled her ears, the scent of her shampoo wafted throughout the air.

And then there was Fleur, topless with her hands working something over in the sink basin.

Hermione froze where she was, her amber eyes locked onto the blonde mute's back. Long, blonde hair had been pulled over a shoulder, exposing an artful canvas full of swirls and harsh lines.

Fleur's back had been tattooed with a pair of wings.

One was a perfect version of an angel wing. Feathers of various lengths had been inked along her left side; shadows and textures making the drawing look highly realistic. A cross and rosary were mixed into the picture.

The other wing was an entirely different story.

Where the first was the wing of an angle, the other was the black wing of a demon. Harsh black lines showed a leathery, tattered form. Like a bat, this wing had five finger like extentions that were connected by the flimsy skin. Holes of various sizes had been punched into the tattoo, making flight impossible had it been a real extention of the blonde's body.

There was no additional drawing, no picture of death.

* * *

**AN: Liz, it was no coincidence. The Big Band Theory reference was intentional. ;)**


	5. Actions

If there's a lesson then I'm willing to learn it

If there's a blessing then I'm willing to earn it

But I'm lost on a day like this and I need a little helping hand.

My kamikazi is coming to break up

Every plan I been trying to make up

I had a vision but I didn't think to listen to the truths up against me now

Charlie Winston: Speak to Me

* * *

Hermione reached out and tapped the blonde on the shoulder, causing the woman to jump and turn hastily towards the brunette. The younger woman arched an eyebrow as she noticed the damp, bundled up fabric that was the mute's top; her head held low.

Folding her arms across her chest, Hermione waited for the blonde to raise her eyes to look at the brunette before she said anything. Hesitantly, as if sure that she would have been yelled at, Fleur raised her blue orbs to gaze down into the stormy amber of the other woman.

"What the hell are you doing in my flat, Fleur?" The brunette said calmly.

Fleur held her top in one hand as she patted her empty pockets before shaking her head.

"I dont remember even telling you _where_ it was that I lived exactly." Chocolate eyes narrowed dangerously as Hermione's voice took on a sudden edge.

The blonde shook her head furiously, her hand raised to stop the brunette.

"Are you stalking me? Do you think this is a _fucking_ game?" She hissed, leaning forward to get close to the panicking blonde's face.

Fleur pressed her lower back against the hard marble of the counter; her eyes desperatly looking for a way to escape as her teeth abused her bottom lip. But Hermione was getting closer, their noses were almost touching now.

"_Look_ at me, Fleur." Hermione growled out, her hand shooting out to grab the other woman's thin wrist.

Memories stirred in Fleur's mind at that moment. Eyes's widening, with the echo a scream playing in her ears, the blonde struck out at the brunette, landing a solid punch into the other woman's unprotected stomach. She barely registured the sound of Hermione dropping to her knees as she sprinted from the room.

The orange cat blocked her way as she made it into the living room, it's fur brissled as it growled deep down in its chest. Fleur payed it no mind as she easily jumped over the enraged feline.

Dashing across the living room, Fleur had barily touched the cold door handle when something sharp dug itself into the back of her leg, sharp nails piercing through her jeans and into her skin. Looking down quickly, she was unsurprised to see that the brunettes cat had launched itself at her. Wide, yellow eyes glared up at her as she shook her leg in an effort to dispell the creature.

With nothing but her still damp shirt, the blonde risked her hands being mauled off as she tryed to pry the cat off manually. It spat and hissed at her as she touched its thick fur, its claws dangerously close to cutting her as she tossed it carefully onto a nearby couch.

Fleur noticed Hermione getting back onto her feet just as she yanked open the door and tumbled out, her legs and arms somehow still keeping her up. Sprinting down the hallway outside the flat, the blonde struggled to put her top on and she looked for the entrance to the stairwell.

The fabric clung closely to her body as she took the stairs three, four at a time. Tears were streaming down her face as soundless sobs racked her body, the pain in her leg making her limp slightly. The walls were closing in around her as she thundered down to the bottom floor, her breaths ragged as her lungs demanded fresh air.

Bursting through the final door, she sprinted down towards the main door, the words of the outraged person from behind the front desk went right over her head. Once outside, she stopped suddenly at the sight of her bike locked exactly where she had left it. The key for the lock was still in her jacket; the jacket that was still up in Hermione's flat.

Panting, the blonde noticed all the people staring at her.

The people were bundled up in their warmest clothing as snow fell softly from above, and here she was in a wet tank top, no jacket and thin jeans. The socks she wore inside her trainers weren't very warm, and soon her whole body was shaking with the onslaught of the sudden freeze.

Turning sharply to the right, Fleur jogged, she was too tired to run anymore, in the direst that she knew her own flat was in. Hopefully she would make it before the weather got any worse.

* * *

Hermione got to her feet with a slight blonde had taken her by surprise, and made the brunette wonder briefly who exactly taught her how to through a left hook. Making her way over to the still widly open door, a quick glance down each direction confirmed to her that Fleur had really left.

From his place on the couch, Crookshanks yowled softly to her as he licked his ruffled fur, his tail swishing impatiently behind him.

A sudden, but faint buzzing noise had the brunette swiveling her head around the empty room to find the sourse of the sound. Following her ears, she padded down the hallway into her washroom, the buzzing a lot lounder now.

Reaching into the sink, she pulled out the slightly damp leather jacket that Fleur had thrown at her when she was still in the tub. The buzzing came again from one of the many pockets.

Looking around, Hermione found a stack of post it notes, a few pens, a single key, a picture of Bacon, and a cellphone. Holding the devise in her hand, the brunette looked down at the name flashing up at her from the screen.

_'Luna,'_ she thought._ 'Of course.'_

Sliding the lock, Hermione stared down at the message the younger blonde had sent.

_'Were you able to return Hermione's shoes to her? She should be home still, if not then I can give you her work adress as well.'_

Looking around the small washroom, she couldnt see where Fleur had left her shoes at. A search around the entire flat had Hermione looking down at the blondes forgotten messanger bag. Crouching down, she flipped up the beige flap and peered into the Fleur's bag. There nestled between a warm looking scarf, and a slightly frayed notebook was the pair of heels that Hermione had worn the day before.

Talking the pair firmly in hand, she strightened out her body and went straight into her bedroom. Inside, she headed for her closet and examined the empty spot right where that particular pair was to be sitting. Had she really driven home barefoot last night?

A glance outside her window informed her of the sudden snow, and the memory of Fleur's jacket still within her washroom had her cursing her rash actions.

"Shit!"


End file.
